


name the animal love makes of us

by oneinspats



Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas, The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Richelieu has feelings but is trying to ignore them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 07:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16828141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneinspats/pseuds/oneinspats
Summary: An early morning encounter brought about by an urgent-non-urgent work of the state. This is to say: Richelieu bothers Treville at absurd hours and refuses to engage with jealousy.





	name the animal love makes of us

**Author's Note:**

> An anon on tumblr requested: 18. Person A runs into Person B’s one-night stand at breakfast.
> 
> I didn't quite follow the prompt. But there is witnessing of love interests.

It is an absurdly early hour. Just gone five-in-the-morning and as it is winter, the skies are low and dark. Richelieu knows that he could wait to a more sociable time to call on the captain of the Musketeers but that would mean taking into consideration how the other man feels and he’s disinclined to do that at the moment. 

And the issue to hand? Something or other to do with the barons and the king and the Huguenots. It’s not _unimportant_ but not _critical_. He could wait. The king asked him to deal with the issue only last evening so it’s hardly necessary to bring in Treville this early. 

But he wants to. He tells himself it’s because Treville’s musketeers caused him an embarrassment last week in front of the King, besting some of his own red guards in a very public forum which led to everyone being hauled before Louis for a degrading reprimand about maintaining control of their men, the illegality of duelling, the importance of the king’s men to be seen as respectable. Are they not all gentlemen?

Richelieu had refrained from sneering, ‘some of us for a longer time than others.’ But he reasons Treville saw the slight written across his face. 

Oh yes, this is all about petty revenge against the captain. If Richelieu is up at five in the morning then he will be up at five in the morning. The joys of serving the King must be shared, after all. 

The morning continues grey and as Richelieu pulls up to the Musketeer barracks it begins to lightly mist. The dampness increases the cold. There will be ice on the streets. Cobbles will be slick with it. The windows of his office will be clouded over and his cats annoyed by the chill. He is not looking forward to it. 

The courtyard is deserted and unusually quiet. He waits as his servant goes up to begin the unpleasant task of waking the captain. Richelieu feels some levity at the prospect of a deeply annoyed Treville. If the captain thinks he can throw his weight around the court now that the Musketeers are once again in favour with the king then he is sorely mistaken. 

In the quiet of this early morning benediction on the woes of Captain Treville a noise disturbs him. It comes from around the side of the building that houses the captain’s quarters. Walking over Richelieu watches as a man slips down the side of the building, a bundle in hand (he thinks: cloak? hat? There is a quick glint of something metallic), then discreetly out a side entrance to the barracks. Richelieu looks up to the window the man descended from and raises his eyebrows. 

Who was that sneaking out of the captain’s quarters? An assassin? Did he just interrupt the possible murder of his rival? That would be his luck. 

He presses his hand to his mouth in thought. He ignores the growing sounds of annoyed voices coming from the other side of the building. Evidence that he has been successful in making Treville decidedly irate. 

The unknown man had been furtive but it was not the furtiveness of a murderer. Richelieu has seen enough of the disreputable side of Paris to know that body language. Where has he seen such discreet actions? Such guilty hunch of the body? Men leaving the beds of their mistresses at court. 

Interesting. 

He had not pegged _that_ on Treville. The man is irredeemably masculine although Richelieu is well aware of the irrelevance of such things. 

Coming around the building to greet the fuming captain his gives him a very warm smile. He finds expressing cheer near the captain unnerves him. 

‘And a good morning to you, captain.’ 

‘This had better be important. Do you know what time it is?’ 

‘One never sleeps when in service to France. As a soldier I thought you’d appreciate that. The King wishes for us to discuss the unrest with the Huguenots. Shall we go to your office? I dislike shouting about state politics in such an open environment.’ His eyes slide over to the shadowed corner of the courtyard wall the unknown man disappeared over. ‘Who knows what sort of people are lurking about.’

If Treville suspects the hint, he gives no sign. Richelieu can admire the man’s stoicism. It is something to aspire to. Turning roughly on his heel Treville stalks up the stairs to his office with a far too cheerful Richelieu following. 

That Richelieu feels a mild annoyance when he sees two wine glasses hidden in a corner is he ignores. There is nothing to be gained from going down that path. Besides, Treville is his court rival. His gentle nemesis. It would ruin the careful balance of the court if he were to allow any thoughts of this sort to flourish. It’s a childish thing, to want something you cannot have and to make a larger deal than necessary about the inability to attain it. And this is not the time to indulge in childish things. 

Leaving several hours later Richelieu finds the temperature has dropped and all that ice he had thought about in the early dark of the morning has formed. Treville walks him to his carriage. 

‘Be safe getting back to the palace. For once it might be good to stay off anything paved.’ 

‘Luckily for us Paris is a mud-pit,’ Richelieu replies. 

Treville’s wan smile is soft. Richelieu wishes to keep it forever in a box. He does not undress that thought any further. Bidding good-day he ducks into the carriage and feels something like relief. 


End file.
